


A Thousand More

by someonestolemyshoes



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, Eremika - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 12:06:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4606116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someonestolemyshoes/pseuds/someonestolemyshoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s not really sure what happens, because one minute they’re lying side by side in amongst the windrows and they’re looking at the stars and the air smells like hay and nobody is moving, nobody is talking, everything is quiet and peaceful and his chest feels heavy in the best kind of way, and the next she is kissing him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thousand More

**Author's Note:**

> This was almost just endless kissing for all eternity tbh

The first person he ever kisses is Armin, and they’re twelve and tiny and spin the bottle is the worst, most atrocious game he’s ever played and he hates Connie for suggesting it, and there are many kisses that follow; Sasha, and Annie and Jean and Reiner, to name a few, and he washes each one away with a mouthful of Pepsi and a hand swiped over his lips.

At the time, it’s like…the biggest deal in the  _world_ , because kissing is something that grown-ups do – husbands and wives and teachers in supply closets when they think nobody is looking. But what’s even bigger, to Eren at least, is that his first kiss, this monumental step into adulthood, wasn’t with Mikasa.

He’d always thought it would be; they’d be older, for sure, and they’d be eating ice cream at the café down the road and she’d be wearing a dress, because it’s summer, and her scarf would be loose over her shoulders like she always wears it when the weather’s hot, and he’d kiss her, peck his lips over the corner of her mouth, and go back to his ice cream like nothing had happened. It’d be sweet like first kisses should be, and she’d blush and hide behind her hair and she’d knot her fingers with his and  _that is how it would be_.

Never in a million  _years_  would he have thought this moment would be shared with Armin because the top of a battered old Lemonade bottle said it must be so.  

Kissing became something else, after that. Something nice, but decidedly less special. In the years that followed Eren kissed girls behind the school sports hall, kissed boys at parties, kissed anyone and everyone just because kissing was no longer a frightening future; just because he  _could_.

He never kissed Mikasa, though. Not even when they were fifteen, sipping stolen wine at a party they were too young to attend, whispering clumsy promises with their fingers tangled together and their heads close enough to do it, close enough to feel breath on their faces.

Not even when they were sixteen and they danced at their leaver’s ball, Eren’s hands trailing where her dress tapered over her hips as a song he can’t remember played over the speakers and his classmates stole kisses around them. Not even when he told her she was beautiful, when her cheeks flushed red and her teeth pulled at her lip and  _oh_  did he want to.

Not even when they were seventeen and Mikasa was curled up in his bed sheets, her dress wrinkled and abandoned on his bedroom floor and her body drowning in one of his shirts. Not even then, with tear-stained cheeks and her heart in pieces, choking her explanation into his pillow and curling into his frame when he lay down beside her. He didn’t kiss her, just listened as she spat her demons in harsh, wracked sobs and begged him in whispers she didn’t really want him to hear; begged him to show her that somebody could care.

They’re eighteen when it happens.  

Eighteen, and the summer is long and hot and brimming with a weird kind of buzz, a nervous kind of excitement for the change September will bring.  

It’s Mikasa’s idea, when the sun dips low in the sky and the breeze picks up just enough to lift the ends of her hair from her shoulders, to slip into one of the hay fields and watch the sunset. They talk the whole walk there; talk about boys and girls and part-time jobs, driving lessons and student finance and the scary new cities they’ll soon be calling home and Mikasa is the first one to stop and sit, to lie back against piles of fresh-cut grass and to say, “I’ll miss you, you know.”

Eren sits beside her and cups his elbows around his knees with his face turned to the sun. The sky is stripped purple and pink and gold and a few stars are already blinking in the fading light.

“I’ll miss you, too,” he says, and when he turns to look at her her eyes are closed, and the ends of her scarf are ruffling in the wind. It’s old, so old now, with loose threads and tattered ends and the colour is fading in mismatched patches, and he jokes that she should get rid of it, buy a replacement, but it makes his chest feel hot and hollow at the thought of seeing her without it. “But we’re only like, an hour apart, and I’ll have my car and-.”

“Don’t  _ever_  think of driving that sorry excuse for a car in the city, Eren.”

“It’s  _fine_. The engine works and the breaks work, what more does a car even need?”

“A handbrake would be good,” Mikasa says, and she blinks open an eye to look at him.

“It has a handbrake.”

“A  _functioning_  one,” she says. “Maybe a boot that you can open from  _outside_  the car. An internal locking system, too. And it’d be nice if the passenger handle wasn’t duct taped in place.”

Eren shoves a hand against her thigh and she laughs, low and breathy, and tilts her head back to traces patterns in the emerging stars.

“Yeah, alright,” he says, dropping to lie down beside her. “It could use a little work. It’ll do the job, though.”

Mikasa hums and Eren can hear the smile in her tone, and then everything is still and silent and he can feel the light of thousands of stars on his skin, feel the heat of Mikasa beside him, and he lets his eyes slide closed to enjoy the moment.

He’s not really sure what happens, because one minute they’re lying side by side in amongst the windrows and they’re looking at the stars and the air smells like hay and nobody is moving, nobody is talking, everything is quiet and peaceful and his chest feels heavy in the best kind of way, and the next she is kissing him.

It isn’t his first kiss.

Eren has never been particularly fussy about where his mouth might land or whose tongue is sneaking between his teeth, or whose alcohol he’s tasting on his breath and so  _this_  shouldn’t be strange at all, really, shouldn’t make his heart thrum and his gut quiver and his limbs tremble but-

-But it’s his first kiss with  _Mikasa_ , and it’s a whole new experience.

Her lips are shaking and her touch is feather-light, nervous and unsure and hesitant but  _god_  she’s warm, and Eren lets his eyes fall shut when her breath fans out over his cheeks, lifts an arm to tangle his fingers in the back of her hair.

She pulls back first, sits up and twists her fingers in her lap, casts her eyes to the floor and Eren watches the heat bleed up her neck and over her cheeks.

He doesn’t think about it, just pushes himself up off the ground and knocks his forehead to hers, hands catching her wrists where they rest against her thighs. 

Practice, as it turns out, pays off well; Mikasa’s mouth is warm and pliant against his own and every slow swipe of his tongue against hers, across her teeth and over the roof of her mouth has her simpering, panting small, desperate sounds onto his lips.

Kissing Mikasa is nice, nicer than any kiss Eren has had before. There’s something different about the way her fingers knot into his hair, and the curve of her hip is smooth and warm under his palms and there is too much air between them, too much free space and he closes it with a tug, pulling at her waist until there is no space left.

She moves where he guides her, easing her weight down, down until her back is flat to the grass again and she hums, long and low into his mouth as Eren stretches his body over hers. His skin tightens where Mikasa’s fingers lift the hem of his shirt, knotting into goosebumps as the breeze ghosts under the fabric.

It lasts  _forever_  and Eren is sorry to have to pull back, but there’s a burn in his lungs that eases when he sucks in a few breaths and Mikasa laughs airily beneath him, one hand smoothing out over his shoulder and the other splaying across his hip. There’s hay weaved into her hair and her lips are kiss-red and swollen, eyes bright and beaming and cheeks tinged pink. Eren grins, and pecks at the end of her nose.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a really long time,” she says, and though her gaze is steady against his, her blush burns redder and Eren cocks a brow, smirk creeping further over his cheeks. He slides his nose along hers and teases his mouth over her jaw.

“You mean to tell me,” he breathes, and Mikasa sucks a breath through her teeth when he nips at her chin, “that I’ve been settling for losers like  _Jean_  when I could have been kissing you?”

Mikasa bends her knee against his hip and Eren slides a feather-light hand over her thigh, lips trailing down her neck to pepper kisses across her collar bone. She hums again, and her jaw bumps the top of his head when she nods. 

“Didn’t know you’d kissed Jean,” she teases, “not since we played spin the bottle and he bit you.”

Eren props his chin on her breastbone and glances up, scowling.

“I kissed him  _once_  at a party. It was a dare, and we don’t talk about it.”

Mikasa laughs, chest vibrating, and smooths Eren’s hair back from his forehead.

“Whatever you say,” she says, “but you brought it up, so…”

She laughs into his kiss and Eren groans, sucks her bottom lip into his mouth and bites hard enough to make her gasp.

“Hey Mika, here’s a crazy idea,” Eren says after a time, shuffling away and leaning back on his hands, eyes facing the stars. He can feel Mikasa’s gaze on him, hears her lift her back from the grass to look at him. “How about I stop kissing guys like Jean.”

“I thought we weren’t talking about that.”

Eren nudges her calf with his toe and smiles, a soft lilt at the corner of his mouth, but doesn’t take his eyes off the sky.

“I mean,” he says, and he reaches a hand between them, fumbling to fidget with the frayed ends of Mikasa’s scarf. “I mean, how about I stop kissing guys at all. Stop kissing anyone.”

He twists the fabric between his fingers and drops his gaze, glancing at Mikasa through his lashes.

“Anyone at all?”

Eren lifts his chin, eyes fixed on the way Mikasa’s brows have lifted just a little closer to her hairline, and he tugs once, hard, on her scarf until she jolts close enough for him to kiss her again. Eren can feel the flutter of her lashes against his cheeks and the soft, slow breath filtering through her nose and he can taste the moan bubbling in her throat and  _god_. He smiles, lifts his lips against hers, and peels away with his forehead pressed against her own. Eren swallows and twines her scarf around his fist.

“Anyone else.”

Mikasa blinks her eyes open and she’s so close that they blur into one black orb, shining in the centre of her face and it makes him breathe a laugh over her chin.

“You sure you can manage that, Jaeger?”

Eren leans back, affronted, and pulls at Mikasa’s scarf again.

“I can commit,  _Ackerman_ , you just watch me.”

Mikasa hums but she’s all small smiles and bright eyes and there’s something about the look on her face that makes Eren blush, makes his stomach clench and his chest tighten. She kisses him this time, a peck to the corner of his mouth like he’d always imagined their first kiss to be.

**

The sky is black and star-speckled by the time they reach Mikasa’s front door and Eren stops under the porch light, squeezes his palm tighter against hers and slips a hand against her neck, fingers knotting beneath her hair to pull her close enough to kiss again. He kisses her lips, pecks her cheeks, nose, forehead, slides his lips over her jaw and tilts her chin enough to smooth his mouth over the marks he’d left on her neck. She’s blushing when he pulls away, eyes hooded and heavy and her mouth open, tongue peaking to lick her bottom lip.

“You can come in,” Mikasa says, leans close enough that her fringe brushes his, “if you want.”

Eren smiles, sheepish, and drops a hand to adjust the front of his jeans.

“I don’t think that’s such a great idea.”

Mikasa’s eyes roll down between them and she cranes her neck back to look at him, brow raised and eyes alight. Eren feels his cheeks heat, but he plasters on a cocky kind of grin and says, “unless you can keep quiet.”

Eren ducks the hand that reaches to cuff the back of his head and plants both palms on Mikasa’s waist, nudging her until her back rests against the door. He kisses her soundly, smooths his tongue over the seam of her lips, runs over the sharp edges of teeth and the warm ridges of her mouth and when he’s done she’s panting, one hand fisted in his hair hard enough to hurt.

“Go home,” Mikasa says, mouth tipped in a playful smile, and she plants another quick kiss to his mouth.

And then she turns the handle, slips into the house, and locks the door behind her.

It isn’t far to Eren’s house and he spends the journey with his fingers playing back and forth over his lips. It’s cliché, like something from an old movie, the way the night pans over and over in his head, and when he finally curls up in bed his mouth is still tingling, mind still racing; his skin smells like hay, like the vanilla of Mikasa’s perfume and the citrus of her hair and his tongue tastes like her, like peppermint and cheap wine and something so distinctly  _Mikasa_  that he can’t even place it.

It wasn’t his first kiss – there have been thousands before; boys and girls and friends and strangers, a college professor for a bet,  _Jean_ , even – but it was his first kiss with Mikasa.

And he can only hope for a thousand more.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all liked it and it makes up for my atrocious updating of Thursday's Child ily and I am sorry 
> 
> If you wanna follow me on tumblr for more of my shit you can find me @ someone-stole-my-shoes.tumblr.com 
> 
> Thank you and god bless ya <3


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